


The Only Exception

by bookmaniac



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clintasha - Freeform, Dancing, F/M, Post Avengers, Romance, Song fic, kind of, pre everything since
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:19:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookmaniac/pseuds/bookmaniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Romanoff had never been one to believe in love, but with Clint, she just might be on her way to believing. One shot based off the song "Only Exception" by Paramore. Set shortly after Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Exception

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing, though i wish i did. I recommend listening to the song while reading it. Reposted from my fanficiton account.

_Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul_   
_That love never lasts._   
_And we've got to find other ways to make it alone._   
_Or keep a straight face._   
_And I've always lived like this_   
_Keeping a comfortable distance._   
_And up until now I have sworn to myself_   
_That I'm content with loneliness._   
_Because none of it was ever worth the risk._

_Well you are the only exception._

 

Natasha sat on the edge of the roof, mindful not to ruin her sparkling white gown. She undid her tendril bun and let her fiery curls fall to her shoulders as she watched the gala continue in the courtyard below.

Tony was animatedly chatting up a group of men - probably associates - with Pepper by his side, both grinning. Steve was talking pleasantly to a woman in a black dress, who he then lead onto the dance floor. Bruce mostly kept to the perimeter, only politely engaging in conversation when someone walked over to him or when he went to the snack table to grab another mini hotdog.

Natasha couldn’t blame him. Like Bruce, she wasn’t a big fan of parties, even ones in her honor. Well, their honor. Ever since New York, the Avengers had been getting more attention and attending more parties in their honor then she was really comfortable with. She was a spy after all; it was her job to be invisible.

She scanned the crowd below for the one person she was really interested in finding. She gave a small sigh of frustration when she couldn’t locate her partner amongst the milling throng of suits and cocktail dresses in the courtyard beneath her.

“Looking for me,” asked a voice behind her.

Her head whipped around to find Clint standing behind her, looking smug as ever for having snuck up on the infamous Black Widow. He was dressed for the occasion; He even went as far as to wear a tie. Natasha tried not to let her eyes linger.

“Maybe,” she said nonchalantly, turning back to the gala.

“Well,” Clint sighed, taking off his tie and sitting down on the ledge beside her. “Never was one for parties.”

“Mmm…” Natasha agreed. They were so close together that they were brushing shoulders, and she could feel the warmth of his body on her bare arm. "What are you doing up here?" she asked.

"You know me," he said looking at the party below. "I always see things better from a distance."

"And what do you see now?"

"A pretty woman, sitting alone on a roof," he said turning to look at her. She scoffed and looked down. Music wafted up from the DJ below filling the air with a soft tune.

“So, what time are they shipping you out tomorrow?” Natasha asked quietly.

“Early."

They sat in silence for a while.

Below, the music shifted from its usual upbeat songs to a slower one. After a moment, Clint stood up and offered Natasha his hand.

"May I?"

“You know I don’t dance,” she said looking up at him.

“You did in Damascus,” he countered, hand still open.

“That was a mission.”

“So? As I recall, neither you nor the ambassador complained. Well, until you put a bullet through his heart.”

"And as _I_ recall," she retorted. "You spent the whole evening ogling that blonde secretary, and then badgered me the rest of the mission for not saving you one dance," she said giving him a look.

"Well you didn't exactly offer," he chuckled. "Come on, Nat, one song," he pleaded.

She sighed and looked up at him. "One dance," she gave in, taking his hand and standing up.

"That's all I ask," he said.

Natasha let him lead her to the middle of the rooftop. Had any other man asked her, she would have flat out told him no. But this was Clint. Clint was different.

She rested her hand on his shoulder and he held her by the waist. She let Clint slowly guide her across the roof to the beat of the song.

“So,” Natasha asked as Clint slowly twirled her. “Where’s Fury sending you?”

“Laos,” he replied. “There’s a drug cartel that needs taking care of.”

“And he’s sending you in without back up?” she asked. She tried not to sound overly concerned, but it was hard. Ever since Clint had been reinstated after the incident with Loki, they’d gone on every mission together. Simple things at first, like recon missions, trying to ease him back in, but quickly moving on to bigger and badder targets. She knew he was more the capable of handling himself, but the thought of Clint going in without anyone to watch his back still unsettled her.

“It’s only one drug lord, Tasha, I think I can handle it."

“I know, it’s just - ”

“Nat," he cut her off gently. "Do we really have to talk about this right now?”

She looked up at him and her green eyes locked with his sparkling steel gray ones.

“No,” she said, and that was all it took.

Clint spun her across the roof with a newfound vigor, holding her to him tightly. Spinning and twirling, they didn't think about the upcoming mission, or the party below, or even their dark pasts that seemed to follow them everywhere they went like an ugly shadow. In that moment, for that one song, they were just Clint and Natasha.

Natasha spun back into Clint's arms, as he slowed their pace a bit. She rested her head against his shoulder as he continued to sway them back and forth. It was then that it hit her that tonight would be the last time she would be seeing him for days, maybe even weeks. The thought caused an unexpected ache in her chest.

Something had changed between them since the battle of New York; there was no denying that. What had started as a simple partnership was quickly becoming something much more…dependent. And it scared her.

They’d always been close, ever since he’d made a different call and spared her all those years ago. Clint was her rock, the one constant in a life of chaos and violence. Nearly losing him had rocked Natasha to her core. He was her partner, the one she worked best with, the one person she trusted above all else; But now there was defiantly something new forming between them.

Most people would call it love, but Natasha didn’t believe in such a thing. And even if she did, such a simple word would not even begin to describe what she had with Clint – what she felt for him. It went far beyond love. It was something that ran much, much deeper.

Her brow furrowed and she lifted her head to look at him. She traced the contours of his face with her eyes, took in every detail, every line, every tiny scar. Burned the picture of it into her memory.

"Tasha," Clint breathed, looking deeply into her eyes.

They were only inches apart now. Natasha could feel her heart beating in her chest. In a moment of spontaneity, she leaned in and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his.

It took him only milliseconds to respond. Tenderly tilting her head, he kissed her deeper, like it was the most natural things in the world. She could taste his lips under hers, feel the longing in his touch. The kiss was full of burning passion and desire; emotions Natasha usually preferred to keep hidden. But under Clint’s gentle touch, the walls she carefully erected to keep people out came crashing down, and she let herself give in to him.

They parted breathlessly, foreheads resting against each other. The slowly started to sway back and forth again, arms around each other, bodies pressed together. There were no words between them, but there was no need of them. They both understood.

And so they stayed that way, long through the end of the song and the four that came after it. They held each other under the light of the moon and sparkling stars, neither wishing for tomorrow to come.

Natasha had never been one to believe in love, but with Clint, she just might be on her way to believing


End file.
